


Hesitation: The Second Coming of Abbie Mills

by Sing



Category: Sleepy Hollow (TV)
Genre: Angst, Canon Rewrite, Comfort, F/M, Family, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Marriage, Proposals, Rebirth, Resurrection, Rewrite, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-26
Updated: 2015-03-14
Packaged: 2018-03-15 07:16:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 22
Words: 16,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3438383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sing/pseuds/Sing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a moment of hesitation, everything changes for Ichabod, Abbie, and the gang. But no one could have foretold this. This part isn't in any of the books.</p><p>UPDATED. Please let me know what you all think!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hesitation

**Author's Note:**

> I loved the finale, but somehow I wanted more, feels? So I decided to go all out on the Angst, but....I have an Idea, so bare with me. Character death! gutting rewrite!
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not, in any way shape nor form own Sleepy Hollow nor any of the characters, ideas, or participants that create it.

He hears the thud of arrival. The angry shouting. The choke and rasp of the lieutenant in her stranglehold. 

She's my wife. He thinks for a brief moment. She's my wife, it flashes again as he rises and moves swiftly from off the floor, he moves for the knife but Katrina is ahead of him. She holds the knife, poised. He pauses. He remembers a time when Katrina's eyes burned with passion, with love. Now they glow with other-worldly glory, power, vengeance. He hesitates again even as his body is in motion.

She's my wife. His mind screams.

She's my wife. His heart breaks. 

He hesitates

He moves to knock the book from her hand but Katrina is swift and whips the knife at Abbie.

He hears the thud of departure. The angry shouting. The silence of the lieutenant. 

The second thud, when he picks up the grimmoire and slams it against Katrina's skull, it cracks. She falls.

She falls.

They fall.

He holds Katrina in his arms. Watching her eyes dim. He will not go to the lieutenant yet. Somehow he knows the death of his wife will be much like the death of his son. That she will burn away into golden ash. The lieutenant still has time for her blood to slow, her body to go cold, her limbs like lead. The lieutenant will wait for him while he grieves.

Like she always has. She will be there to grieve and be grieved.

He clenches his hands, where his wife once lay. and turns then, to look at the delicate body across the room. The broken thing, with the knife struck true, with her eyes fluttered closed, graceful in death. her hair fanned out behind her, legs sprawled before her. He takes her body in his arms. Now he will mourn Abbie. Now he will mourn all of his follies throughout the past year. 

This time, he does not hesitate,

he weeps.


	2. Reluctant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The buried her last year. One as ash that vanished. The other, in the ground. He is alone now. He is one witness, against all odds, he must shoulder a burden meant for two. But, stranger things have happened.

The screaming in the room has Crane terrified out of his wits. He has never seen heard so much unnatural wailing. And women in his day did not have medications to ease their births. But Jenny screams at the top of her lungs. She curses, she yells and he can hear Irving snapping back at her, but still encouraging her to "stay with me girl, go on, I won't really need my hand after this, just keep pushing!"

As fate would have it. Jenny found herself in the family way, two months after Abbie had passed. It took approximately that long for Jenny to ever look him in the eyes again. But when she did, she pitied him. He had lost his past and present in one day. In one moment. It had been a hard year since, oh, they fought, yes they did, they made do and fought in every way they could manage against new creature and new evils. But the team was down one, and they would always feel that absence. No spell or conjure could undo what had occurred that day. By the time they had thought to ask Macey---well, her and her mother had fled after feeling the electric crackling in their veins. The feeling that somehow they had changed, irreversibly. And they had thought it best to sort out whatever the hell that was, away from Sleepy Hollow. Irving spoke to them, on occasion. Kept in touch, and looked after Jenny when Hawley's relic chasing took him away from home. But they were both in there now, against the will of the doctors, coaching Jenny through the final legs of labour.

"Push!"

Crane fiddled and paced in the hall. He wondered, bitterly, if the events of Henry's birth had sounded anything like this. If Grace had hollered and Katrina screamed so terribly then? Jenny sounded as if she was being torn in two.

"Push!"

He hoped that Hawley would prove to be a better father than he had proved to be an ally in the time prior. But, alas, t'was Jenny who had thought it best to bed him in her grief, tis Jenny who will have to contend with his ability or lack there of in the fathering department. 

"Push"

"Come on Mills"

"Shut up Hawley!"

"Push!"

"Push!"

A wail. a cry. triumph inside the delivery room. The babe had been born. 

"Crane"

Irving motioned for him to come in sometime later. Jenny looked exhausted. Bedraggled and sweaty, but there was a perfect bundle lying on her chest. sleeping contentedly. "Say hi to uncle Crane, little girl" Jenny cooed. Hawley smirked, self congratulating. 

"Ain't she beautiful Crane?"

Crane edged carefully closer. Closer. until he was peering into the girls face. He startled. Her eyes were open. 

"I want you to be her Godfather, Crane? Crane are you listening?"

Her eyes were deep, brown, knowing. He saw recognition flicker in them before her eyes blinked back shut. 

"Her name, Miss Jenny, what will be her name?"

Jenny smiled sadly. "I want to name her after my sister, Abigail....but we might call her Gail for short, it still hurts to say Abbie," 

Crane nodded slowly. His heart was racing a mile a minute. He wondered if it was evident to any of the others, that Grace Abigail Mills had just been reborn.


	3. Familiar

Crane bounces Gail in his lap.

She loves her godfather. She laughs at the sight of him. She reaches for him when he leaves the room. She claws away from her mother to be held in his arms. It is his protective hold, a hand pressed to the back of her head, that ceases her crying. It is his absurd bickering with modern technology that makes her coo with delight. It is Crane that reads to her, strange histories, bizarre stories of the past, of evil, of the future, of her heritage. He tells her stories of before. The first time they met. When she was a grown, independent woman. And he was a man out of time. She is Gail to her mother, to her father, to Irving, to everyone in town. But when it is just Crane and his god-daughter, he calls her by her true name. "Abbie" he coos.

He knows it is Abbie incarnate because she admonishes him with a glare if he ends a story too soon. He knows it is Abbie when she raises her tiny fist to his. He knows it his Abbie because her eyes are bright and he knows because she forgives.

She forgives him for the one day in which he hesitated, and cost her life. She forgives him for the one day that he didn't move to her side immediately after she was injured. For he is there now. He is there with the bottle. He is there at story time. And he will be there, every single step of the way. 

The babe knows her destiny. She knows that her and Crane are inseparable. That his stories are not just foibles. That he speaks of a life far away. She knows she was born to a calling, and Crane will prepare her for it. 

Gail bounces in Crane's lap, smiling at him.

Crane relishes this, for a moment, he cares for a child, for a moment, it is almost as if he is a father. For a moment, he is there for Abbie in a way he never had been before. And he will not forsake her again. She has given him a gift, this child. He laughs.

This is a rebirth for him too. 

Gail's first word is "Crane"


	4. Something to Consider

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jenny and Irving are standing outside the nursery.

Quietly, the duo observed the pair in the nursery. Crane was in a rocking chair. His impossibly lanky frame folded in on himself, but he was merrily cooing and diving in and out of "Benjamin Franklin" this and "George washington" that, interspersed with stories of when he had gone to kareoke for the first time, or taken his first "selfie" 

"He thinks it's Abbie," Jenny exhaled softly.

Irving shrugged. "Stranger things have happened."

Jenny cut her gaze to Frank and then began to back away. "You can't mean to tell me you believe it?"

"Why not?"

"Because, because, because then I would have given birth to my sister---how can we ignore how insane that is?"

"Katrina gave birth to a demon" Irving smirked. "We hadn't quite believed that either."

"It can't be Abbie, she's, she's, God Irving she's so small. Hawley would kill me if I let anything happen to her"

"It won't"

"How can you be so sure? if, big if, if that's Abbie, she has a duty, a calling, an ever loving prophecy and---no Crane is being insane"

"Why is it so hard to entertain?" Irving wonders, slowly guiding her away from the door, lest they disturb the pair. 

Jenny blinked back tears. Maybe it was because her baby seemed to want Crane more than her own mother. Maybe because if it indeed was Abbie, it meant that Crane was hogging all she had left of her sister. "Because she's mine, Irving. She was Crane's once before, and look how that turned out. You know the bond they have, that'll never break, and I can't bear for him to falter again and--" she began to sob. 

"Hey hey hey," Irving turned Jenny to look into her eyes. "That man has lived with impossible guilt. He was wrong, yes, but, damn Jenny, he's looking after that child like she was his own. Do you think Crane would ever make that mistake again?"

"No," she admits amid tears. "But that doesn't make me worry less. She's a child. He's a grown man. That bond is impossible. They can't be friends, children will laugh at her, friends with this old man, and damnit Frank we're still in the middle of this damn war. She'll never be able to fight."

"The prophecy called for Two Witnesses. It didn't say they have to both be fighting," Irving chooses his next words carefully. "Maybe, maybe the bond will be enough"

Jenny turns back to the room, where Ichabod is rumbling a lullaby to her daughter.

"Big wheel keeps on turning, proud Mary keep on burning, and we're rollin, rollin, rollin like a river"

Jenny smiles sadly. "I hope so Frank, I really do"


	5. Echoes of a Past Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jenny had taken all of Abbie's possessions after she died and had been steadfastly sorting through them. She comes across an object that she doesn't quite remember the significance of, she keeps it for her daughter.

Jenny hadn't been aware of how many jackets her sister owned. Or how many grey tank tops. Or boots. They'd always looked more or less like the same items worn time and again. The fact that Abbie had actually owned 10 grey tank tops, 5 navy blue ones, 3 white, 4 black moto jackets, two brown a green, etc etc and etc, was confounding. She had known Abbie was practical, but, well, perhaps this had been overkill. She sorts through the items, slowly. This should have been taken care of nearly a year ago, but Jenny couldn't bring herself to rummage through Abbie's things once she had passed, and after she had found herself pregnant, her world had been blown six ways from Tuesday, and since then, well, digging through her departed sisters belongings hadn't seemed so important. What with demon hunting and Hawley and looking after Gail.

So here she was on a wintery Saturday Afternoon, almost a 2 years to the day that Abbie had passed, and Gail---who may or may not be Abbie incarnate--- would be turning a year and a half. Jenny decided she would keep some of things items for her daughter. Somehow, she was sure Gail would have the same build. One jacket would do. Two tanks of each colour, she listed the items off in her head while she methodically searched each piece of clothing. Scrap paper, pencils, hair elastics, a metal ring---

Wait

Jenny paused and turned the item over in her hand. This looked familiar, but why? It was something she remembered Abbie explaining some time later, long after the matter had been resolved, it had been a point of contention with Ichabod. But damned if Jenny remembered what the stupid thing was. And it wasn't just a metal ring, it had edges, deliberate looking edges, with a leather cord tied through it. She ran her finger over the edges of it, and, finding that it wasn't sharp to the touch decided it might be safe enough for Gail to have, as a sort of heirloom. 

"What is that thing?" Hawley asked later as he watched Jenny fasten the thing around Gail's neck. 

"I don't know, but it was in one of Abbie's jackets, I just thought---" I don't know what I thought, Jenny trailed off.

Hawley wrapped his arms around her waist. "I'm not quite sure how I feel about this hypothesis you guys have been floating around you know, that this is Abbie Mills reborn. I think it's a dangerous way to think. If it turns out she's not the second Witness born again, we might have trouble in the fight ahead."

"I know Hawley I know" Jenny huffed. When Gail had turned three months, and Crane had made a huge fuss over it, Jenny had explained Crane's idea....and that Irving kinda believed it. "It's kinda comforting to think though, isn't it?"

"I don't know how much comfort I'd derive from a baby going into war with demons. My daughter going into war with demons" 

"Irving said---"

"Irving isn' the father of that little girl, I am. And even if she IS Mills, she's still tiny. And nothing is going to change that too soon."

"Hawley, can we not? I just, it was from my sister, whether that's some version of her or not--" she gestured toward Gail on the floor, shuffling around stuffed animals. "It still belongs to family, and I think it's right she have it,"

Hawley's face softened for a moment. "I get it Jenny, I do. Question still remains though, what is that thing?" 

*********

Gail peers curiously at the ornament around her neck. She touches it and something niggles at her brain. Something tells her that this little necklace will bring her something. Someone. And they're important. They might be dangerous too, but she knows, in some far away manner, that she trusts whoever it might summon. She grasps it in her hand as she drifts to sleep. A blinding glow settles in her room just as she begins to drift off. 

She is being watched.


	6. Four Trees

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gail wanders off, but it's not horror she finds.

Gail is four years old and talking. She is running away from her parents and even Crane whenever she gets the chance. She likes the freedom to run. even though her legs are stumpy, and she falls, she doesn't cry, she laughs. Her hair is bouncy, springy dark curls down her back. Her skin is milky chocolate, her eyes, a deep soulful brown, strange, on a child so young to have such wise eyes. They were on a picnic when a butterfly caught her fancy and Gail was off like a shot before anything could be done. 

Gail is fast. She is fast and light and spry, nimble. She runs and runs, chasing the butterfly until she finds herself in a clearing. The clearing is bathed in a warm glow. She pauses on the edge of it. Something inside of her tells her she has bad associations with clearings, that an unpleasant thing occurred to her once when she was a child. But she is a child. 

Gail is often plagued with these thoughts, a sense of a deja vu, if she could articulate it. She has, feelings, and memories, that she knows she has not crafted herself, but they are there, forgotten things that she keeps unexpectedly unearthing when confronted with unexpected stimuli. The clearing is bordered by four trees. The bark on them is strange. Part charred, part dried blood, part gleaming white--she knows a part of her is afraid. But there is a warmth here. She touches the charm around her neck. She does this when she is worried. The butterfly has long since vanished.

She hears flapping. Wings. But there are no birds. There's a boy however, her age, on the other side of the clearing. His eyes are amber coloured, and his hair jet black. She freezes. He was not this young when they first met. No, they have never met. Yes you have, her brain wheedles. She is too young to understand these warring voices. 

"Abigail" the boy calls. He is too young for his voice to carry so. Too young for his voice to sound ageless and knowing, like he knows Her.

Gail staggers back from the clearing, because she is confused. Not afraid, she notes. She is confused, maybe a little curious, as the boy approaches her.

"Who are you?" she asks slowly. Carefully.

The boy cocks his head to the side, nodding to her necklace. "You called me,"

I would never call you a voice lashes out but Gail shakes it. "Hi,"

his face softens "Hi"


	7. Battle Ground

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is Year Seven. Gail is Five. The final battle.

"Just to be clear, that's the Anti-Christ out there?" Irving huffs as he loads his gun. Hawley spits.

"The Beast, Satan, Anti-Christ, I really don't care right now, but all of the people who got marked for the new currency are turning, and we're out numbered" He pulls the pin out of a grenade and flings it over the end of their barricade.

Jenny aims her machine gun at the slew of demons scrambling towards them on all fours, their heads on upside down, venom dripping from their fangs, her bullets strike true, their heads exploding, the bloody tissue raining down around them. The air is thick with decay and gore, she would gag if she hadn't been through battles like these before. But then again, no battle, has been like this one before. 

"Get down!" Crane booms as a bolt comes hurtling towards them, felling a tree in the distance. He peers over the edge. There is a single strand of grey hair in Crane's locks. The only evidence that he's aged, and even then, it exists in large part due to the stress of this war for which they've been preparing, that and the fact that Gail is with them, in a sort of enchanted protective box Hawley found on one of his expeditions. She's cramped in it, and she's dying to get hold of something to throw, but they all agree destiny or not, Witness or not, Gail will not fight. They just hope her being there is enough to bolster their forces. 

"Marked at 12:00!" Hawley yells. Crane vaults over their barricade, gun in hand and buts the offending citizen in the face before tripping them and bashing in their skull. As they fall to the floor, he sees the 666 tattooed on their hand, recognizes a face from the re-enactment society. The old Crane would've given a brief moment to mutter a prayer. But not now. The new Crane, the post death of Abbie, Crane, no longer hesitates. No longer cries for compassion for those who have been mislead. Choices are made for a reason. This man chose to survive with the devil as ruler over his own soul--he will not spare any moments pitying him. 

"Move!" Crane calls and the gang emerge, dodging and dashing through the onslaught. Irving and Hawley are bounding with Gail's protective box carried between them. They think that if they can get to the gate of Hell, and fell all of the horsemen, that they can put a halt to this. Jenny is flying ahead of them, dashing and weaving. Demons explode around her. The Marked fall as lightening strikes them.

Macey and Cynthia returned the year prior, having sorted out their feelings about discovering their witch heritage, they came back ready to fight at their side. 

They are sequestered in a barn, mustering tornadoes and fire storms in a relative place of safety clearing the path for the others in every way they can manage. 

Gail's stomach churns as she is jostled along. There are bars in the box, it's a bit like a small prison, her limbs ache from being folded so tightly, and her blood is raging. Gail knows she is but a child. But Gail also knows with a frightening surety this is her fight, her destiny, and there must be some way she can contribute to it other than being some sort of representative beacon of prophecy. She thinks back briefly to little over year ago, in the clearing.

**********  
"hi," the boy had said. "It has been some time"

"I don't know you,"

"You used to Abigail,"

"How do you know my name?"

"It is the role of guardians to know the names of their charges"

"Guardian what?"

"Angel, dear child"

"Why do you talk like an old person?"

"I am ancient, Abigail, you knew this once. The workings of my Lord are mysterious indeed, I did not think it possible"

the voice in the back of Gail's head speaks :He was bad once. Wanted to kill innocents to purge the earth. And yet, I knew he'd never harm me. "When did we meet?" Gail had asked tentatively.

The boy had smiled. "Use that charm when you have need of me. I cannot speak for the rest of the world, but you have previously earned my regard. I will honour that, even in your new form" 

A light had blinded her then, and the boy had vanished.

*****************

"Argh!" Jenny cries, staggering from a blow to her arm. Hawley drops his end of Gails box to Jenny's side as she falls to the ground. Irving shouts

"Hawley get your ass back here this baby can't sit in the middle of a demon war!" 

"Go!" Jenny rasps, gasping from the pain but Hawley won't leave her. 

"No way in hell Mills, where'd t get you?"

"Just my arm, it's a flesh wound, Hawley our DAUGHTER" she screams. "Hawley!" she screeches as one of the Marked swing at from behind but Crane dives in time to block the blow, he's switched for his bayonnet and he runs the woman through. 

Irving heaves the box but it's too heavy for two, the hinge on the front swings open and Gail tumbles out, all limbs in a tangle and fire charged. Suddenly freed, Gail sprints.

"Gail!" Irving shouts and Jenny knocks him to the side as she lunges after her daughter but Gail is zig zagging out of the carnage, amazingly dodging all manner of creatures coming after her. 

Gails heart is pounding. She doesn't know what she can do, but she knows she must move, she must--she grips her charm as she presses ahead.

Crane abandoned the others the moment he realized Gail had broken free. 

"Do it right this time Crane!" Jenny hollers. 

Crane's long limbs service him well as he charges to catch up with Gail, Witness or no, she's a child and has no business in this fray alone. 

A large shadow swoops over head then. Macey and Cynthia pause in their ministrations, wondering for a moment if they should attack this alien being gliding through the sky, but it moves swiftly past them, over the carnage, homing in on Gail racing in the distance.

Crane skids to a halt when the creature lands just in front of Gail and she tumbles into the strangers arms. Gail looks up, wild eyed, and at last, feeling frightened. 

"You called for me," 

Gail nods quickly. She knows she's fundamental to ending this, but she's still only a girl. She hasn't lived the hardships necessary to make her formidable and strong yet, she doesn't know what it means to dig deep and fight on, to be ready to die. She knows that once she was prepared and primed for that, but she doesn't have that now, she's only just begun to live. 

"You"

The angel bows. "We meet again."

Crane steps forward but the stranger raises his hand. "Now is not the time, Ichabod Crane. I have come for the child, who's spirit is a likeness to the first Abigail Mills, I come to aid in her journey. Today, I fight at your side,"

"How did she summon you?" In spite of all that s going on around them, Jenny, Hawley and Irving fending off hell hounds and the horsemen who have suddenly come crashing through to the join them--Crane has time for this one question. 

"The Sigil. I believe it was passed on to her"

Crane bits his lip. This will not be the first time that She has kept this angel a secret from him. Even in a life renewed, there are things his fellow Witness will not share. 

"I haven't time for this, we have a world to save. Come on then,"

Gail nods determinedly, and takes off leading the way to the Gate. They will defeat the horsemen. They will close the gates. They will win.


	8. Second Coming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The events of the final battle demolished a good portion of the woods, and Sleepy Hollow citizens. And two people are missing.

Apocalypse, averted. 

High Score

Game Over.

That was three days ago. Jenny stirs her coffee, slowly, so slowly, her eyes red from crying. Hawley stares out the window, spooking himself every time someone walks down the street. Crane, Gail and Orion were engulfed in flames during the final battle. Orion emerged, wings tattered, his face strangely drawn and contrite. He stripped off his armour as he left the battle sight, wiping soot from his face, he left on foot, his wings dragging behind him.

Crane and Gail did not emerge. 

Jenny had screamed herself raw in her grief. No, no it couldn't be, she had already lost once, how could she lose again? Her sister now her daughter? One and the same? gone either way? Jenny had raved so wildly, that her voice still hadn't returned. All she made were rasping noises if she tried to speak. She wrote on a pad of paper if she had to communicate, but she had nothing to say anymore, perhaps never again. Hawley had tried to gouge his own eyes out before Irving stopped him. But since then his eyes were haunted and empty. They had expected to be triumphant. They had not expected to become ghosts themselves.

Cynthia and Macey came daily to ensure the couple were eating. Irving, unhinged and shattered by a loss of a friend and the dear little girl, had taken to the woods, walking, every morning, until night. He barely ate, he had become a wraith. Cynthia tried and tried to scry, but she couldn't see anything. Where could they be? she wondered. Where they in Purgatory? taking the stands and relaying events to a representative of the heavenly host? Heaven itself? just, resting up? Or was their sacrifice to be obliteration. 

Was their death supposed to be the price of peace?

She swallowed hard as her and Macey bustled around the home, doing Jenny's laundry and preparing dinner. She had never dreamed life could go like this. Who could have foretold it?

 

*****************

In a blanket of clouds, two pairs of eyes blink open.

"Crane?" a voice rasps. An older voice. Is that my voice? "Crane?" she tries again. She thinks it's her voice, but--oww. She aches, all over. her throat is parched. 

"You have Served" a voice intones. A warm voice, it sounds like Mother and Father in one. It sounds like Love and Salvation and Holiness. She cannot move to bow. She cannot remember if she was religious, but she decides in this moment to believe. She chooses Faith now, only Faith can explain this to her. "You have Served," the voice repeats and she feels herself begin to fill with a warm glow, her mind expands, it shrinks, there are puzzle pieces fitting, sliding, locking into place, the voice that use to berate her soothes her now, it seeps into her, coils into her throat to become her own. It is a homecoming, something is repairing. "You have borne Witness to the End of Days. You will go now and tell of the life I have prepared for you, you will go and tell them of the paradise that awaits the steadfast and stalwart who follow me. We will meet again," She wants to say something, thank you, I love you, anything to the voice surrounding her, filling her but she is struggling with the other changes, transforming her, altering her, becoming her and she is still confused, because she did not do all of this alone.

"Crane!"  
********************

He clears his throat, he stares up at infinite sky, he hears her calling for him, but he grunts and adjusts to the thing overcoming him. He wonders if now that his duty is done, it is time for him to return to the grave. He licks his lips, he feels delusional, but the only words to reach his lips are "Lieutenant?"


	9. Resurrection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a knock at the door

She remembers light. The voice of God. She remembers change. The last Stand. She remembers the sting of Crane's knife pressing into her wrist, the drop of blood beading up on the skin as he nicked his own wrist and pressed their wrists together. Their blood mingled. She knows she should have been crying, she'd never been cut in all her life. She'd never even been smacked for all of the times she had escaped her mother's grasp. But her godfather had just cut her, after arriving at the Gate Crane rummaged in his coat for a book and began reciting from it, and she was so in awe of the blaze emanating from the hell mouth, distracted by the way Orion knocked oncoming demon warriors aside as they emerged from the gate while Crane recited, she hadn't even noticed when he produced the neat little blade. Had obediently held out her hand to him, even though she could sense Crane's hesitation.

He had hesitated before, she recalls.

She scrunched her face at the memory. He had paused to consider in a crucial time and it had cost them everything. She remembers that she had looked into his wise old eyes, eyes that had held her as a babe, eyes that had held her when her world was ruin--when had her world ever been in ruin? wasn't she too young for that sort of thing?--- eyes that had made promises, broken them, renewed them. She will not let him hesitate now. Young as she is, something within her is old enough to decide, to steel herself and she nods at him once. 

He does not hesitate then. He shuts his eyes and whispers a quick "sorry" followed by a "thank you" before he cut her and then himself, he presses their cuts together, and keeps reciting, the wind picks up around them. She shuts her eyes, she hears Orion roar as he slices a demon in half. She can feel herself growing hot, Crane raises his voice, and then there is white hot flame. She remembers that she screamed. She screamed as Crane threw his arms around her and murmured "It'll be okay, it'll be okay" over and over. And then there was light.

*******************

Now there is darkness. It is pitch black and her eyes feel like they have been sealed shut for eons. She coughs, she inhales, but there is no air here. On top of which, there is someone else with her, latched on tightly to her waist. She cranes her neck down, but she can't see for the darkness. But she can't be bothered with that for the fact that she needs air. The body shifts but is still clutching to her. She scratches and claws, but there's a ceiling above her. A small hand presses something into her own. A knife. She wants to ask how, but she can't, she takes the knife carefully and hacks into the cushioning surrounding her, satin and fluff rain down and the two of them sputter and cough in the darkness until she hits wood. She stabs into it, repeatedly, banging her hand on it until she hears it crack, and then one more solid punch, though she knows she has split her knuckles, and the wood splinters entirely. She laughs in triumph, but stops when dirt caves in on her, dirt and worms and two separate voices squeal in shock but she keeps digging, reaching, and the other pair of hands reaches up and starts to help. Their hands sometimes miss and claw the other, but they work on silently, save for a few grunts and cries when more dirt rains, but soon they are out, reverse digging struggling until they see a crack of light. 

Then the way starts to clear rapidly, hands, white, slender fingered, strong hands reach from the other end for her and she grasps them, and they haul her out. She heaves onto the grass, coughing, brushing dirt from her hair, taking great deep breaths, but only for a moment because she remembers her helper is still down there behind her, she turns and the small hand reaches up, latches onto her, and she lifts, lifts, and her jaw goes slack. 

She beholds the girl in her arms.

How old is she, four, five? She touches the girls long black curls, marvels at the chocolate hue of her skin, the eyes, the eyes that she has seen in the mirror so many times before. She looks like Jenny, she thinks. The girl stares at her in equal wonder, she reaches for her locks, and touches her cheek wonderingly, and then she squints and locks her arms around her neck. 

Behind them, the owner of the white hands splutters in disbelief, tears brimming in his eyes. "It worked," he whispers before descending on them both. He turns to her, presses his mouth to her ear "Welcome back, both of you" 

**************

Jenny staggers when she opens the door. "No," she gasps. It is the first time she has spoken in days. Her voice horse from disuse. "No" She bends down to capture her daughter returned to her, she touches her repeatedly, murmuring, "my baby, my baby, my brave little girl" She locks eyes with Crane looking pretty damn proud of himself and she smirks. Yes, he did it right this time, he saved her daughter. 

"Thank you, Crane" it comes out as a whisper. Her voice is still faltering. "Thank you, so much" the tears stream down her face. Crane is still looking highly amused, his eyes are shimmering. 

"She is a credit to the family name, Miss Jenny. A credit to her namesake," he chokes then, and Jenny stretches out her arm to him, to join them, but then he steps aside and the scream that erupts from Jenny brings Hawley running from the attic where he was moments before contemplating suicide, and Irving out in the woods turns towards the sound and begins jogging towards it. 

Cynthia appears in a flash, and Macey who was coming in from picking up groceries at the market rolls to a halt. 

"Abbie?" Jenny rasps, rising to her feet and clutching her sister in her arms. "Please Lord let it be you,"

Abbie weeps profusely. "Who else would it be?"

"You died, Abbie, You died,"

"And Crane brought me back."

"I have a daughter Abbie, we named her after you,"

"I know, Jenny. I was there."

She pauses. "Was it you? were you Gail?"

Abbie nods. After, after the ritual Crane had performed, and she had felt the transformation happening, she had the heard the voice of the Almighty telling her, joking "I do not usually pour new wine into old bottles, but in your case, I'll make an exception" And he had pulled Gail from her body, Gail was a separate child now, she would forever bare the scar of the ritual, but it had made Abbie's resurrection possible. 

She remembered being a babe, faintly, cradled in Crane's, Hawley's, Irvings, and Jenny's arms. 

Gail smiles up at them both, a part of her will always remember that she was once past and present. That the woman before her, for a time was part of her, and now is whole again. This is her aunt. 

It is Irving who notices that whatever happened to the witnesses in the past 3 days has altered Crane. "Uh, so, you shut a Hell Gate and you find the fountain of youth? no fair Crane"

It is then that Abbie laughs, except for her and Crane, everyone she left behind is five years older from when she saw them last, but she was resurrected at the age she had been when she died, and the ritual, whatever properties of it, had turned back the clock for Crane too. Crane laughs, shrugs. "Some sacrifices must be made, I shall miss my grey hairs" 

There are tears and laughter all around as they all embrace each other, full of wonder, gratefulness. Abbie looks down at her niece. 

"Hi, my name is Abigail"

Gail smiles at her. "My names Abigail too"


	10. Homecoming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is a time to repair and heal old wounds, and rejoice in miracles.

Hawley carries Gail to her room and tucks her in. He has bags under his eyes. As he presses a kiss to her forehead, he begins to shake. He cannot believe what he was about to do, moments, mere moment before his daughter was returned to him. Moments before the greatest miracle he had ever witnessed had occurred. He wept for joy that Gail was safe, whole, and for the first time glad to see that Crane had survived too. He watches as Gail drifts to sleep. He had always been a roamer, knocking up Jenny Mills hadn't much altered that, but fighting a war for humanity can change a persons outlook. Hadn't he been with Jenny long enough? hadn't they seen each other through horrors and joys? How could he have thought for even a moment, that he should abandon her? He walks down the hall opens their bedroom door. Jenny is on her knees, praying. He understands the feeling. The events they have witnessed today warrant thanks to someone, he kneels at her side, reaches for her hand and sits there while she finishes her prayers. When she finishes she turns and buries herself in his arms. 

"Mills,"

Jenny smirks. "Five years and a child later and I'm still 'Mills'?"

"Jenny" he amends. Because what he has to say next is important. "I damn near thought my own world was going to end when Gail didn't come back," he starts. Jenny is quiet. She knows that Hawley is being open, which doesn't happen often. She will wait, she will be patient. "I, a part of me died, Jenny. A part of me I didn't know I had." He starts to pet her hair, and Jenny's eyes well up with tears, because she knows the feeling. She thinks of her mute days, how she lost her voice to the grief. "I, just, just now Jenny I, damnit" he cursed and turned away. She grasps his arm gently. She thinks she knows. She had seen the way Hawley had gone vacant in his eyes, hadn't she known when he went upstairs nearly two hours before Gail had returned? Hadn't she been waiting to hear a shot ring? Why hadn't she gone to him? Why hadn't she run upstairs? She was crying freely now. 

"I'm sorry Nick, I knew. I knew. I....I was paralyzed, and I haven't been with you, and I'm sorry Nick, I was a coward not to face those demons with you. We should have turned towards each other, not away. Nick," she swallowed, heaved, shuddered in his arms.

"I love you Jenny," he tips her chin up to look at him. "If that wasn't clear before. I forgive you for letting me walk that road, if you forgive me conspiring to abandon you"

She held his face in her hands and kissed him. "Stay with me, Hawley, I love you, stay"

He tightened his arms around her. "Marry me, and I'll never stray"

********************

Orion sits in the vacant chair near Gails bed. His wings folded, his clothing fresh and clean. He is no longer the man who fought demons, he has reverted to the boy who Gail met in the clearing. He thinks that now that there is peace in the world, that wickedness has been abolished, that he might try his hand at life as one of God's most beloved creatures. He thinks he would like to be a child, have friends, grow up, for a time anyway. 

********************

Irving is home and resting, no longer traipsing the woods. Macey is reading a book in the recliner and Cynthia is lying across his lap. She is so happy to have him back home. She draws twirling patterns on his thigh while he strokes her hair. 

"You've gotten to damn bony" she smiles.

"Oh I'll show you bony," Irving grins mischievously and Macey chokes in the corner.

"Oh guys gross" 

Irving laughs, his life feels whole for the first time in 7 damn long years.

*******************

Abbie and Crane stare at one another for what feels like eternity. She is trying to reconcile the three versions of Crane she has known. The one who was fickle in matters of his heart, but had unwavering faith in those he loved, who fought, hard, for his family, who paused, and as a result she died.

The Crane who beheld her a babe, reborn in Gail and recognized her, instantly, and cared for her so tenderly, who was patient with her even when she doubted him at the Gate, because her voice and Gails were so mingled then, it was such a strange existence. She thinks she will always have echoes of Gails memories and she of hers, but she hopes that now their thoughts will be independent. 

And now, this Crane, who stares at her in awe, and relief. How silently reaches for her hand. "How," she manages at last.

"A spell, a binding, so to speak, akin to when I was bound to the horsemen of Death. The gate sealing called for the blood of two witnesses. Gails and mine, but, I also recited a blood binding, and invoked your name. I hoped that indeed, we would reawaken after end of days, the passages get a little unclear along those lines" he smirked. "But I mixed the Gate sealing with the blood binding so--"

"That when you woke up I would too," Abbie finished, her eyes glittering. "Pretty clever Crane, I'm impressed,"

He reached for her hands holding them loosely between them. "Forgive me Abbie"

Her breath catches. Her name has always meant danger. But now, now she sense her name is open, it is free, it is accessible, He, is accessible. Propriety has no place in this conversation. He is not worried over custom now. "Forgive me, Abbie"

She must think on this. The fact that she breathes should be enough to atone for what has been done, but she must remember that she died because of him, she must own that and grieve and feel it and anger for all of the things that were taken away from her, because he hesitated in a do or die situation. She must be raw and bare before she accepts his pleas, because then she will know it comes from her heart, her soul. "You took from me," she says quietly. "I lost because of you Crane, I....I died. if Gail hadn't been born, where would the world be now?"

Crane bites his lip. "I do not know, Abbie, I do not know, I am sorry, a thousand times, I cannot undo what I did, I cannot be excused, I do not think myself exonerated for my wrongs, and if you bear resentment, I will bear it, and give you space. But, I have missed you, Abbie. More than I have dared to ever say,"

Abbie cries and steps into his arms. She doesn't think she will ever stop crying but suddenly she is still, a well run dry and she inhales deeply. 

"Thank you, for not giving up on me,"

"Thank you for returning at all," Crane smiles. "I....I think....well" he clears his throat. "They say absence makes the heart grow fonder....if that is possible, my own heart has grown more and more fond of you, it was already over fond before I so greatly failed you."

Abbie smiles. "I know I'm resurrected and all, but time is still a valuable thing, Ichabod," 

He pulls back and gazes into her eyes. "I have fallen in love with you" 

She sighs happily and tosses her head. "I would like to be courted, in your fashion."

Crane barks out a laugh. He does not hesitate to answer.

"It would be my pleasure, my love"


	11. Begin Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There was the matter of Abbie reclaiming her job.

They had largely expected explaining Abbie's sudden return would prove nothing short of a colossal muck for all parties involved. There had been a death certificate after all. A declaration of her passing in the Sleepy Hollow obituary. There were records of a life lived and ended. Yet, there was Abbie, the confounding evidence to the contrary. 

They had forgotten, however, the wonders of Divine Intervention. 

Somehow, by the seventh day, the woods had recovered from their devastation, and the half demolished population of Sleepy Hollow, had itself, repopulated. Abbie, Crane and Gail rose on the third day. But on the seventh, all of those citizens who had not been marked before end days, those who had risen, and those who had passed before, were returned. So when Abbie walked into the precinct, expecting, prepared to face all manner of disbelief as she tried to reclaim her former post, she was, in a word, gobsmacked, to find Sheriff Corbin milling around behind the desk.

"Morning Mills," he greeted her matter of fact, as if it was the most natural thing in the world for a man who died by beheading to be whole again and walking around as if nothing had happened. Abbie supposed she shouldn't have been shocked, she had died, too, but...well there wasn't any mention of this. Not that she could remember. Corbin looked up from his sheaf of papers at her and smiled. "C'mere girl" Abbie slowly moved towards him, tentative, worried that if she made any sudden movements he'd disappear. She'd had enough haunting dreams when she lived before, enough mornings waking up in tears to discover that what she had wanted more than anything had been a cruel trick of her subconscious. But when his solid arms folded around her, her legs went weak. "Don't cry, come on now, I need a Lieutenant with a strong resolve," he chided gently.

"How?" Abbie felt like she'd been asking that question a lot lately. How had she been reborn in Gail. How had she been separated from her. How had she been brought back from the dead in her old body, how the hell had Jenny brought herself to accept Nick Hawley's marriage proposal, how had Cynthia and Macey become such kick ass witches. How on earth had she not known all along that Crane would never give up on her. 

Corbin smiled. "is 'God is Good' a good enough answer? I don't know about you, but I'm weary of ancient texts and prophecies and explanations. Just know that I'm solid, real, living again, and I'm not the only one."

"Welcome back" Abbie chuckled. 

"You too, girl."

***********************

"Ichabod!" Crane dropped his bag of groceries. That voice.....he turned and was bowled over by a young woman, a smiling woman who he knew had once drowned.....6 years ago. 

"Miss Caroline?" his voice pitched up at the end. She nodded enthusiastically. 

"Have you too risen?"

She answered him by grabbing his face and kissing him on the mouth. Crane flailed but Caroline broke off from him abruptly and laughed. "I always wanted to do that!" she thrilled. "I regretted that I didn't! But no more! no more regrets no sir! New life new me! I don't know how this is possible, but I know I have you and Abbie to thank. Thank you!" she gushed, embracing him once more, and then she was off and skipping. 

"Was that Caroline?"

Crane jumped a foot in the air. "Miss Mills," he fumbled. 

Abbie laughed. "I saw that kiss Crane, don't worry about it. I almost kissed you when I rose myself," she grinned when she saw how flustered the declaration made him. "But, I'd like that moment to be special. come on, I'd like to see who else managed to come back to enjoy this new verdant Sleepy Hollow" 

"Who else?"

"Corbins back. I'm willing to bet every kind innocent has come back too, let's visit some old friends" 

"As you wish, Miss Mills."

"It's Lieutenant Crane, once more, I am Lieutenant Mills" 

"I would have it no other way."


	12. I come a courtin'

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three relationships, fluff.

Macey is down at the library. There seems to be nothing but time to read these days. She leaves her parents at home to repair what time and career and apocalypse rotted.

Cynthia hums happily as Frank massages her shoulders. She has her feet up and is flipping through a gossip magazine, There's a show on television, something about a man waking up 200 years after he dies and teaming up with a cop to divert the end of the world. It's absolute poppycock but Frank is enthralled, so she lets him watch, and she gets a massage, and the quiet comfort of them being together. There was a time when she felt so far removed from Frank, when they seemed irrevocably beyond repair. She looks up at him, just as he is looking down at her, and their lips meet, slowly, softly, she reaches up to touch his face and then he moves around to be in front of her, she swings her feet down and stands to meet him. Irving's arms crush her to him, and Cynthia feels a thrill. She hasn't felt, that kind of thrill in years, she didn't think they still had spark. Even though it's been two weeks since the events that changed everything, her and Irving have done nothing beyond cuddle and spoon in bed. Little sparks begin to shoot from her fingertips. She's noticed that her magic tends to leak like this when she is feeling a little, over stimulated, excited, she moans as Frank deepens the kiss and an unintentional zap shoots through him. He yelps but he smiles and comes back in for more. "Oh, hurt me baby," he murmurs and Cynthia shrieks when he swings her up in his arms and starts marching dutifully for the bedroom. 

With a wave of her hand she slams the door shut. 

*********************

Caroline is baby sitting Gail in the park. A black haired little boy has joined Gail where she plays on the swing, he swings beside her, smiling. He has never felt this before. He thinks he will enjoy childhood. Gail laughs and leaping off the swing, challenges him to a race. He considers using his wings, for a moment, but decides he'd like to see how well he'll fair without aid. 

"You'll never catch me!" Gail yells. Caroline laughs watching the children play. All she does is laugh these days. Life is beautiful.

*******************

At home Hawley has put on a motown record. And Jenny shakes her head as she walks into the living room, discovers it decorated with yellow flowers, wine on the table, and candles lit all around. She has never known Hawley to have a romantic bone in his body. But he's her fiancee now, she supposes that changes things. "I've got sunshine, on a cloudy day" He smiles widely at her and offers his hand. She takes it and he guides her in a sweet slow shuffle around the room, singing the lyrics in her ear and making her giggle. "I guess, you'd say, what can make me feel this way, my girl." He pecks her cheek. "Talking bout, my girl" he dips her and Jenny laughs. "You didn't think I had it in me, did ya Mills?"

"You are full of pleasant surprises" she muses and rests her head on his shoulder. 

"So, I'm wondering," he twirls her away from him, "When do you want to see about getting a ring?" he pulls her back in, close, has the pleasure of watching her face register shock at his dancing grace. 

"Soon?" 

He laughs. "How about tomorrow, hmm? We'll bring Gail, she can help pick something special for her mother," 

Jenny wants, very badly to go "Oh Hawley" in a swoon like manner, but she has her dignity, she will maintain some of it, even though she is feeling extremely giddy and silly, and she really wants to take the wine upstairs and finish their evening in the bedroom. It is 6 o clock in the evening, the sun has just begun to set, Gail will be home from the park soon, dinner to prepare, and the bedroom isn't going anywhere that's for sure. Who knows when she'll get Hawley to dance with her again? She settles for the dance. This small simple thing. Things between her and Hawley have never been simple, she thinks that she wants to start collecting simple now. Little things. Small treasures. Precious tiny bits. Like dancing with Hawley while he sings, a little poorly, in her ear, and waits patiently for the door bell that will tell them Caroline has brought Gail safely back home. 

******************

Abbie and Crane have not seen each other since the week before, they have been writing letters. Long missives, short rambling ones. She sprays her perfume on the special, heavy paper she bought for this purpose. He presses flowers, and leaves into his. Their letters are always fragrant and bedazzled with small affectionate tokens. The third letter from Crane held a scrap of cloth. Abbie almost wept when she realized it was a piece of Crane's coat. She thought perhaps she had over done it when she snipped a lock of her hair, sprayed it, tied it with a ribbon. But Crane sent back a lock of his own, and she surprised herself by thinking it somewhat charming. 

The letters help to slow their progress, and deepen their bond. Abbie is still in someways too raw, to collapse into a bundle of emotion in Crane's arms. And Crane, for all his declaration, is relieved to persue her properly, and glad for a moment to reflect. And truly, he finds himself even more anxious to see Abbie now, the distance has made him appreciate anew all of the things he loves. On Friday afternoon, after he finishes penning his reply, he decides he will deliver it himself. He pulls on his clean garments, fresh shirt, pressed pants, dons his trademark coat, missing a scrap from the inner pocket, and goes out to buy flowers. It is too cold still to pick the ones he wants, they too are shy of blooming prematurely. And Crane begins his walk. He passes Caroline trotting him little Gail, both of them wave at him as he goes, and he smiles at Corbin leaving the donut shop, and he collides with Abbie.

"Crane what are you doing here?"

"I should ask you the same thing, it looks like you were coming to call" He is a bit flustered and sounds a bit accusatory.

Abbie raises her brow. "And you? weren't you on your way to see me?"

He lifts his head and raises a brow in return, "Perhaps." He holds out the flowers to her. "I come a courtin," he smiles.

Abbie takes them from him, smells the bouquet and smiles. "I've been missing you," she says. "I admit I wanted to see you,"

"The feeling is mutual, I was on my way to deliver my last missive," he produces the letter, which he sprayed, lightly with his musk. She smells it lightly, sighs, hands it back to him. He looks at her, perplexed.

"Read it to me?" she asks. 

"My pleasure" Crane offers his arm and she slips her fingers through it, and they stroll down the street, the sky turning rosy and grey, until they reach the park, where they sit, Abbie leaning into him, her bouquet beside her on the bench, and she listens to Crane's baritone as he recites a litany of words that he claims describe her. Some prattling about his day. Some contemplations on life, some reflections on past events. But he ends with his truth. The truest truth he has known since he himself was ever born, that he loves her, eternally, and not even death could tear them apart. Abbie laces her fingers with Cranes. She decides then, she decides she is ready to become a bundle of feelings and reaches up to stroke his face. He captures her hand, holding it there.

"Miss Mills?"

"Abbie" she breathes.

"Abbie" his eyes are so kind, he turns his face to kiss the palm of her hand. "May I be granted the honour of my lips formally greeting yours? I promise to behave" and for a moment, just a brief moment there is a flicker of something wicked. 

"Yes, Ichabod Crane, you may" and then he kisses her, softly, sweetly, lingering. They will have many more kisses, so this one need not be rushed. This one is to taste love, life, and joy. This kiss is hello, and see you tomorrow. This kiss begins a forever.


	13. Weeks Later

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the next three chapters are gonna be a sort of fast forward timeline.

WEEKS LATER (let's call it March) 

Cynthia faints as Irving just barely catches her before looking down at the stick on the counter. He smiles "Macey!"

Macey rolls into their room, smiling. "I know already Dad. I'm getting better at scrying. Wanna know if it'll be a boy or a girl?

Cynthia groans "I'm too old for this,"

*********************

"I can't believe you're doing this. With him" Abbie gazes around, for all intents and purposes stunned by the array of wedding gowns. She might be doing this very thing soon, the way Cranes moving, she reminds herself he's been waiting 5 years. 

Jenny turns and turns in the mirror. This is so unlike the Jenny Abbie knows. This Jenny is soft and so in love she could vomit. But of course, this Jenny wants her wedding dress to be a mini dress if possible. Abbie is determined to see her in something suitable to both her sisters personality and the occasion.

"I'm marrying that 'HIM' so ditch the judgement, he's kinda in a roundabout way the only way you still exist"

Abbie is about to ask what the hell does Nick Hawley have to do with her rebirth when she---oh, right, Gail. They had too---oh God no. Jenny grins wickedly , seeing Abbie's reflection in the mirror. 

"Yeah, who's to say, if Hawley and I didn't do the nasty if Gail would have happened? and then there'd be no conduit between you too"

"We're not going to rehash the brief period in which you were my parents, we're just not" Abbie huffs and sips from the complimentary champagne. Gail is twirling around in her own blush coloured frothy little dress and Abbie smiles. Whatever the fashion, she's glad they're all here. 

*******************

Hawley frowns at the fit of the tux. "I dunno Crane,"

"Surely the rakeish rogue that is Nicholas Hawley does not object to the formal finery and frippery that is demanded of the occasion?" Crane mused. 

"This is a size too long and you know it,"

"I know nothing of the sort,"

The bell dinging at the front of the shop announces the arrival of Irving, grinning from ear to ear. "Cigars for all!" he hollers

"I do not believe smoking is permitted in this establishment"

"I do not meh meh meh meh" Hawley mimicked and then reached over to Frank. "Give one 'ere" He hunts around for his lighter and lights up "What're we celebrating?" 

"A new addition to the Irving family," Frank beams proudly. "I rocked that witches world!" 

Crane holds the cigar aloft in his hand, unlit. "Congratulations, Captain," he smiles. "Now, let's finish getting Hawley done up in his 'monkey suit' and then let's all go out and celebrate properly, hmm?"

"Sure, sure---Hawley what the hell are you wearing?!"

********************

Abbie hangs up the phone as she Jenny and Gail leave the bridal shop, they head for starbucks. "So, Cynthia's, how Crane would say, expecting."

Jenny frowns. "That's gonna screw with my bridesmaids dresses," 

"Jenny!" Abbie admonishes and the two sisters laugh as they enter the coffeeshop, Gail wants every pastry. They only let her have three.


	14. Months Later

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let's call this, August?

Cynthia rotates in the mirror, still in disbelief as she looks down at her bump. She wonders if this child will have witch heritage too, or be mortal, she can't quite decide if she has a preference either way. Three months to go, she sighs. She's going to start all over again with a newborn, in three months. Lord help me, she laughs to herself and joins her husband in bed. 

***************************

Hawley and Jenny took Gail on a Euro tour (Hawley called in a few favours) after their wedding last week. They should be back in September.

***************************

Crane is unusually quiet since the wedding, he has been, for the past four months, Abbie thinks. She clears the table silently, and wonders if she'll stay at the cabin tonight, or if she should head home. Her and Crane haven't been intimate yet. Abbie is surprised with how easy it is to wait......although until what, she doesn't know. But, she thinks perhaps Crane is feeling left out. 

Her sister and Hawley are now married and raising a beautiful daughter.

Irving and Cynthia are expanding their own family, no matter how unbelievable that may be.

And then there is she and Crane. She thinks, Crane is wanting to join the others in matrimony and parenthood. She thinks, she wouldn't mind joining their ranks herself. But, perhaps Crane doesn't know she's ready. 

"Ichabod?"

"hmm?"

"Are you, do you---do you want to get married?" Abbie clapped her hands over her mouth. How in the hell had she just managed to make that sound like a proposal? 

Crane's brows rose. "I beg your pardon?" but he's giving her a sly grin. Abbie splutters and throws her hands up in the air. 

"forget it"

"No please, do go on" Crane leans forward eagerly in his chair.

"I was just thinking, you know, our friends are married and raising family, and you never got a chance to do that properly, and perhaps you were feeling a little left--oh" Crane had come up behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist and gently kissing her shoulder. 

"I believe we agreed I would court you, in my fashion?"

"Yes but"

"But?"

"You've been acting so.....quiet and weird lately, more so when things picked up for Jenny's wedding,"

Crane kisses her shoulder again. "Ah. I have had some things on my mind, true, but, I would like to stand by our previous arrangement."

"Oh" Abbie says. That stung. It almost felt like a rejection. 

"If you must know, my love, I have a rather nerve wracking meeting planned for tomorrow"

"With who? you didn't tell me anything about any meetings"

"I'm meeting with a Mr. Corbin, to procure his blessing, you see it's customary to speak to the patriarch for his daughters hand," His beard tickles her back and before Abbie can say anything, he seals his mouth over hers. She wants to say 'I love you' But she doesn't want to break the kiss. She doesn't want him to ever stop kissing her.


	15. Resurrection isn't for everyone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Unlike Corbin and Caroline....someone has had a harder time adjusting and embracing a new life. 
> 
> I dedicate this chapter to tirahsmommy

Some people took life in stride. Whether the first time or second time around. Like Caroline, who had performed an about face, and now ran a dress and costume shop--partial to reenactment costumes of course, for those members of the society who had returned. Like Corbin, who behaved as if nothing had ever changed, save from the occasional visit from the Mills girls. Like Joe, who was happily though lazily working in the police department, because, to be honest, there was so little wickedness and delinquency in sleepy hollow, the force was almost obsolete. The most they could hope for now was a little mischief, and even that was largely performed by the citizens who did it in good nature to keep the force on their toes. Amused, at least. 

But, some people, found themselves returned in the ruin of a mental hospital, alone. And for all intents and purposes, completely removed from civilized and sane society. Having lived a life betrayed by a lover, haunted by demons, and then tormented to the point of death, well, you'll forgive Lori Mills if she says wasn't absolutely thrilled to suddenly find herself breathing again. The Tarrytown mental hospital had been demolished after the end days, and had not been deemed important to be restored with the infinite power that was Divine Intervention. Many of the other patients had reintegrated, easily, some who had particularly wicked family members found themselves, alone, yes, but with a clean slate. That was the thing about Resurrection day, There were families that were missing members, be it because they had sided with the Beast in the finale battle or had been wicked in spirit, but those brought back were for the most part, wiped clean of misery, and memory....not enough memory to grieve and mourn the wicked that were lost, at least. 

Lori woke in the ruins, in her tattered hospital gown and robe, and on that day, hid behind the rubble of a broken wall when she heard voices wandering the area.

"Do you truly think so?"

"If Corbin came back, maybe Lor---my mom did too, it could happen, right?"

Lori had just barely peered around her hiding place to see her daughter strolling with a man. Something in their bearing told Lori the pair were now more than just Witnesses. No, they weren't that anymore either. They had saved the world, her daughter and this man out of time. Her face burned. Haunted and afraid, Lori wished she could have been more to her daughters in life, she wished that time had been reversed, not just her life restored, there was so much she would do differently. She had waited until she heard Abbie huff in disappointment before she and Ichabod had left the ruins. Only then did she creep and crawl her way back into a much changed Sleepy Hollow.

The good thing about being back was, most of the people who had known her, had been weak and sided with darkness during the final battle, so Lori was left with an effectively clean slate, as far as people went. There was no one to remember her disgrace and dismay at being hauled away. Only her daughters.

She had gone to Jenny's wedding. It had been a town affair, she had straightened her hair and worn a dress she liked from Caroline's shop, none of the guests had known her, and her daughters, close to the front, and already sure that she hadn't come back, hadn't been any the wiser. 

But time weighed heavy on her heart. She had glimpsed Jenny's child running out the church just before she herself had made her get away, avoiding husband and bride running out in glee. She knew that perhaps it wouldn't be long before Abbie did the same march down the aisle. She had been given a second chance at life, and here she was, avoiding it. Avoiding the only family she had. 

how could she repair it? After laying low so long? after having hidden in plain sight for nearly seven months? How would she explain her reluctance to come find them? That she had deliberately hidden and stayed hidden when she heard Abbie and Crane searching in the ruins?

Lori shook her head as she trimmed the hedge in the backyard. She'd found this house empty when she got back in town. Not a soul had come to claim it. Not a soul had come to visit either, but that was her fault, she owned that. She wondered if perhaps she should have stayed dead. Her neighbour, his house spaced a respectable distance from her own, waved too cheerily at her. Lori didn't bother to sneer at him. She just kept on clipping away.

************************************

Corbin shook his head. He'd never seen such a dour faced woman. And he had been fighting crime in Sleepy Hollow. If he admitted it to himself he'd been wanting to go over and say hi since, well, nearly a month after Resurrection day. He'd caught sight of her at Jenny's wedding, but she'd as much as vanished by that time. He turned from the window and shook himself. He was older than her, anyway. Maybe not by much but---no, no he wasn't going that route. The sharp rapping at the door made Corbin roll his eyes. That had to be the study in decorum himself Ichabod Crane at his front door.

"Greetings, Sheriff Corbin,"

Corbin smiled. "Come on in Crane, said you had something you wanted to talk about?"

"A blessing, to be precise,"

Corbin folded his arms and scrunched his brow, in a show of disapproval. "Bless what?" he boomed, and had the pleasure of seeing Crane falter, although so briefly he'd have almost missed it. Crane bristled and crossed the threshold. 

"I request your blessing, ins asking for Abigails hand in marriage," Corbin laughed and clapped Crane hard on the shoulder, causing him to splutter. 

"You sure as hell do have my blessing, now let's have a drink, and you're going to tell me all about how you plan to worship the very ground she walks on, and then we're gonna talk where you two are gonna live, because I'll be damned if you stay in my old shack,"


	16. Getting to know, you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, it's gonna take me a couple chapters to get through my "fast forward" bear with me. 
> 
> Also huge thanks to everyone who has been commenting and reading! thank you so much you're awesome!

Crane left Corbin's place, practically skipping like a school boy, now there was just the matter of getting his beloved a ring. It was a good thing that he'd never been the sort to squander his money. 

*************

The next morning, Corbin collided with his next door neighbour while taking out the trash. She spooked running into him and started dashing back up her driveway but he called out to her. "Hey hey hey" and damn he was loud enough that the lady across the street looked up from wrangling her own trash can. She cursed under breath and turned to look at him.

Well.

Well she supposed she'd seen worse.

A little doughy.

A little wrinkly in the brow.

Good posture though.

This man couldn't really be trying to strike up a conversation with her, could he? She was jaded, a little angry, but she knew she was still a beautiful, robust woman, and if she had a mind to date, she could. 

"Morning," she said stiffly.

"I'm sorry, I couldn't hear you," he smiled slowly. She wanted to smack him, she honestly did. 

"I said good morning," she hollered back with her hands on her hips. 

"Names August,"

"Like the month?"

"One and the same"

"I always thought it was a poor joke for a parent to name their child after a month, as if a human could ever live up to the glory of the season it falls in." She was surprised she could be so eloquently scathing. But, she was being truthful. August meant heat, a simmering boil of Summer, a last hurrah before dissipating into sunny September mornings. August was a triumphant, sticky, ice cream dripping down your cone, sweat beading on you back---no, this pale man, this man was a wintery breeze in march. He had been named poorly. 

Corbin chuckled. "You know, you might be right" 

Her face fell. 

"And your name?"

She shut her mouth and raised a brow at him. "Guess it"

"Pardon?"

"I said guess it," she challenged. 

"That's not fai--"

"What's not fair, August," she spat "Is you ambushing me this morning while I simply try to take out my trash," she turned on her heel and started up the steps to her porch.

"Does it start with a....A? D? M? L?"

She paused in the doorway, looked over her shoulder at him. "An L. Good day August" 

******************************

"Beloved!" Crane called as he swung open the cabin doors.

"Beloved!" she called back with a laugh as she put down the book she was reading. "So, how'd it go?"

"He enthusiastically approves, but, it is his demand we move."

Abbie frowned. "What?"

"Sheriff Corbin wants us to invest in acquiring a suitable marital home, so, what I must ask of you now, dearest treasure--"

"Do you memorize these endearments?"

"What I was trying to ask is when, goddess of my heart---"

"Seriously?"

"Miss Mills do you mind?"

"Sorry," Abbie laughed.

"The keeper of my soul, is when would you like to go house shopping?" 

"What about the ring, Crane?"

Crane smirked as only Crane could. "Leave the ring to me, Abbie, but let's see about a 'dream home' shall we?"

"Well come here, my handsome paramour, and let's check house listings online,"

"Paramour? well done Miss Mills,"

Abbie winked at him. "I'm a quick study"


	17. When One Forgets How

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a commotion in Lori's backyard

Lori has just taken the kettle off the stove and is settling in for her midday lunch, trying with all her might to ignore the events of this morning. It was a week after August had collided with her on garbage day, and it had been insignificant enough to her she hadn't counted on it happening again. But of course it did.

"Lynn?" he had guessed by way greeting. 

"Lexis?"

She studiously ignored him while he threw random names into the air between them. The woman across street watched them, amused. 

"Is it short for something?"

"Laura?"

"Lee?"

"Lorna?"

That was cutting it kinda close she thought before she dramatically slammed the door behind her. She allows herself a brief, brief smile, he looked like a fool hollering the in the morning, that was what amused her, not that he was trying so hard to---CRASH---what the hell? RUSTLE RUSTLE. Lori scrambles out into her backyard and comes face to face with the second most peculiar thing she has encountered for the day. There's a boy in her hedges. A boy who is tangled, struggling, scratched up, and crying.

***********************

He had taken well to childhood, perhaps even, too well. He had been playing with Gail almost every day before she went with her parents on their honey moon/vacation, and even then, there was an abundance of children in Sleepy Hollow, more than there had been before, it was astonishing how many children had returned, some of them to ancestors, some to parents, some to siblings old enough to look after them. Needless to say he had been occupying himself with some of the other local children since the beginning of the month, pranking the Sleepy Hollow police force, which on both sides was an endless string of entertainment. He'd been sleeping over and having dinner with his new friends, so the issue of a home hadn't come up, finding his own food or anything of the sort. 

He'd completely ignored and forgotten what he was. So when his friends unceremoniously informed him that no, he couldn't sleep over tonight, and no, they were going out of town so he couldn't come over for dinner, He was bewildered at the helplessness he felt, and then, with a spurt of hurt feelings, had unfolded his wings, intending to take towards the sky and back to his own camp---when his wings failed him. He'd spent nearly six months parading in the form of a human boy and he had now forgotten how to use his wings. He veered and struggled to right himself but the wind was strong, and wrong and he spiralled down and crashed in a strange womans bushes. His face scratched, he felt the membrane on one of his wings tear, and then, stung with the feeling of an Angels hurt pride, he begins to cry. 

"Come here baby, come on," the woman gestures him, and he goes, straight into her arms. Never having need to comfort before but seeking it now, because it was devastatingly clear to him, that he had erred in thinking he could play at being human and not suffer any consequences. It would take him a while yet to heal, more time to learn to fly again, and he had nowhere to go. "Come on, inside, come, we'll get you something to eat"

She fixes him a sandwich, gives him a glass of milk, wipes his scratches and bandages a cut on his arm from where a disagreeable thorn had stuck him. 

"Where are your parents?" she asks at last. He shakes his head. "No one came back with you?" He shakes his head again, no. Because he is no mortal with human loved ones that were brought back in triumph. He is an angel who tired of glory and wanted to be normal. He wonders if the Lord is punishing him for it. 

"Well," The woman stands, clearing the dishes. "You can stay here, until someone comes for you, someone will, you'll see. What's your name baby?"

"Orion" he moves to help her wash up, and they settle into an easy rhythm. He knows no one is coming to claim him. 

Lori, who had seen the torn wing before he quickly absorbed it, knows it, too.


	18. Dust cloud

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another familiar face joining the gang, that's all.

On Monday Morning, August 17th Caroline sweeps every nook and cranny of her shop, every crevice and corner, gathering the offensive pile of dust in the middle of the floor. She's already unpacked and folded her dresses, she has gowns,summer dresses, formal wear, suits, shirts, and then the most fantastical and beautiful costumes ever seen, with masks and accessories and shoes, and a jewelry case with fine designer fortune worthy pieces, and delicate beautiful locally crafted pieces. She has dressed her mannequins and cleaned her display cases. The shop has been a hit in town since it opened, she called it "Rekindle" symbolic of starting things anew, be it historic or sentimental, and it was shocking how many people found things to celebrate now a days in sleepy hollow, being brought back from the dead not being the least among them. Birthday parties, anniversaries, reunions, weddings, girls night out, boys night out, costume parties, re-enactment society, you name it, people came to Rekindle to find it, and Caroline didn't regret that she had invested her savings in purchasing the space and stocking up the store. For the first time Caroline was living a fairytale all her own, and she was revelling in it. She draws the blinds on her windows, sticks the jamb in the door and sweeps the dust cloud directly into the face of the unsuspecting man crossing her threshold. 

He instantly falls into a coughing fit. 

"Oh my gosh! are you okay?"

"I'm--"cough" "Fine, I'll be--" cough cough choke splutter. "Water!" he gasps. She ushers him quickly into a chair adjacent to the dressing room and dashes into her back room and returns with a glass, a damp cloth in the other hand to dust off his shoulders and where fluff has collected on his brows. 

"I'm so sorry!" she gushes. 

"I'm fine, I'm ouch,"

"What is it?"

"I think there's something in my eye gah,"

"Let me see, tilt your head back," and Caroline kneels to be on eye level and get a better look. "I don't see anything," she peers closer, and just then the door bell dings again.

"Good Morning Miss Caroline!" Crane chirps brightly, then pauses. "Are you occupied?" he queries noticing how closely she's leaning towards the man.

Caroline reels back quickly. "Nope! Morning Ichabod!" 

"Ichabod? Ichabod Crane?" the man turns toward Crane at the door, one hand covering his left eye. 

Crane peers at him and then laughs. "Calvin Riggs, is that you?"

"Who the hell else would it be?"

"Gods, what happened to you? Ah, wait, you got dusted"

"Dusted?" 

Crane chuckles. "I fear you are not the first unsuspecting Sleepy Hollow Citizen to meet the wrong end of Miss Caroline's vigorous house keeping. I found myself thoroughly dusted just last week when I came in to have my coat repaired" 

"Yeah, The miss here got me at the door" Calvin smiles and Caroline notices how white his teeth are. 

"How's your eye?" she cuts in. 

"Uh," 

"How about you go wash it, in the back, right down the hall" she directs him and Calvin makes his way back to hopefully remove the aggressive dust bunny that has lodged itself in his eye. 

"How can I help you Ichabod?"

"I was meeting Mr. Riggs here, actually, and hoped to speak to you both,"

"Oh?"

"Yeah, got a letter from Crane last week, Who still sends letters?" Calvin asks as he returns, blinking his eyes wildly, smiling gratefully at Caroline who's face has begun to colour. 

"Well, as you know, I have been courting Miss Mills, and it's time we had a formal engagement, I am in need of co-conspirators, it's going to be a bit elaborate, a bit of a spectacle," he looks meaningfully at Caroline and she knows Crane is hinting at the array of costumes she stores upstairs. "I'd like to weave a news story, and I know of no one better suited in journalism, nor, stylistic flair, what say you Caroline? Mr. Riggs?"

"Let's stick to Calvin," Calvin smiles, shaking hands vigorously with Crane and Caroline nods happily. 

"Abbie's going to be such a lucky woman,"

"Well come on then Colonial man, what's the plan?" 

The phone rings and Caroline answers "Uh huh. oh, yeah no, sure," she returns to the group and huffs. "That was my seamstress calling in sick, but carry on Ichabod!"

"Well, I was thinking, something, theatrical,"

**************************

Lori hangs up the phone and looks down at Orion looking up at her shyly.

"You're gonna tell me what you were doing up on my roof baby, and don't lie to me, I will tan an angels hide"

Orion eyes grow wide as saucers. He's never faced a maternal reprimand, never been vulnerable to one. He also never suspected that Lori might know what he is.

"I saw the wing baby, come on, tell mama what you were up to, and no lying to me, I've had very personal conversations with demons, there's no fooling me hon," she smiles at him.

Orion sighs. "Can I have some cookies first?" 

"I can't go to work because I'm looking after you, and then I spend all my money buying you cookies," she scolds, but is already reaching for the box of rainbow chip cookies in the cupboard.


	19. Magical Lasso

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's something amiss in New Sleepy Hollow

Abbie pores over paperwork, minor complaints, missing pies from windowsills--really? she had thought, people did that?---a home decorated with toilet paper streamers, all minor disruptions that had been lodged purely because it was habit. Everyone knew it was the children just giving their local police department something to do, keep em busy, even if it was more paperwork than it was worth. Still, it made days at the office by far less taxing than worrying over drunkards and domestic disturbances. So when Corbin saunters in to inform her of a murder, Abbie thinks she's misheard him. 

"A what?"

"A murder Mills," her stomach drops as she reaches for newspaper he hands to her. It's in the local paper alright, and there's a terrifying picture of a man dangling by his neck on a stage while performers back fearfully away from him. Abbie wonders if she's in a bad dream. 

"What, what, who,"

"There was an accident there too, an artifact crashed in the theatre, I think we'd better go investigate" 

It's 6:00 in the evening, the sun is still high, Abbie started her day late, coming in purely to fill out files only about an hour ago, she was fresh from a midday shower. She reads the paper again.

"During last nights opera performance, the ballet number was interrupted by a terrifying display, one of the stage hands had been strangled back stage and then hung on stage for all to see, patrons mention seeing a cloaked figure in a mask fleeing the scene. Opera goers also mention hearing a ghostly voice singing about the magical lasso this masked man uses to perform his kills" It was written by Calvin Riggs. Her stomach churns.

Last time she and Corbin had gone on an investigation he had turned up dead. 

"You coming or what Mills?" he calls shrugging on his jacket. Abbie shakes herself. She will not live in fear. She nods once and follows him out the door.

Please, she prays, nothing like the last time.


	20. Behind the Scenes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Takes place before Abbie and Corbin go to investigate the murder at the theatre.

August 20th.

"Lorelei?"

"Lori! Damnit! My name is Lori! are you happy now?" she heaves as she looks across at dumbstruck August. He gapes at her, then flashes a smile, and it is then that Lori claps her hands over her mouth. Now she's done it.

"Nice to make your acquaintance, Lori," He smiles, takes her hand in his (she is too awestruck that she let him catch her off guard that she doesn't pull away) and shakes it gently. "Now that we're on a first name basis," he continues and Lori is petrified in his grasp. She has worked so damn hard to not become intwined with people in town, even avoiding her daughters, she's not quite ready to start making friends yet, not ready to face the eventuality of colliding with her children yet, and here it is, the wall has been broken. Orion watches from the window, finishing his breakfast, his expression interested and vaguely amused. 

"I want to discuss the young man staying with you,"

"He's an orphan" Lori answers quickly, snapping out of her shock. 

Corbin nods. "September is rolling around, back to school," 

Dread settles in Lori's stomach. She hasn't though about that, that Orion should be going to school, child his age not in classes is a direct call to Children's Aid. But Orion isn't human. Corbins face is kind, cautious, as though he knows he's on the cusp of what could possibly become a disastrous situation. 

"He related to you?" he asks pointedly and Lori frowns. Corbin sighs. "Listen, I got two girls of my own, Lori. I know it's hard looking after other children, especially, well, Sleepy Hollow is a strange town! I'm offering to help. Help him get clothes and supplies for school, while you go to work,"

"Don't you work August?"

He smiles. "Not much by way of crime nowadays. And I have a pretty damn competent team of officers," 

Lori is so flustered by the strange turn of this morning she opens and closes her mouth and then huffs. "Orion!" she finally calls. And out he comes, shyly, quickly. He stands straighter nowadays, he was examining the tear in his wings the day prior, he is feeling stronger. He will try flying again soon, hopefully. If Lori doesn't start panicking about how dangerous it is. She thinks he should start with a jumping off a fence first---but that's besides the point, right now he is faced with the man who intends to help him get set up for school. Orion hasn't decided if he will stay around for school, hadn't thought that far. 

Corbin stoops to his eye level. Orion assess his features, kind eyes, weathered face. Strong bearing. He sticks out his hand to him and Corbin, smiling shakes it. "Your name's Orion?" 

"Yes, you are?"

Corbin balks at the childs formality but recovers. "Sheriff August Corbin," 

"A Sheriff," Lori repeats, mildly impressed, but mildly troubled, that's significant somehow, she knows it is, some memory that caved in. "Thank you," Lori continues. "That's, kind of you, to offer,"

"I know how you could make it up to me," 

Why of all the smug.....she fumes. Oh how Lori wants to punch this man in the face. She ushers Orion back inside and turns her back on him, storming back up her driveway when he hollers. That man could summon the dead the way he yells if he a had mind to. Across the street, that damned nosy neighbour is not so stealthily peering between her curtains.

"I have an engagement party coming up for one of my girls, I wouldn't mind some company, bring the boy too, it's supposed to be fancy dress, the girl down at Rekindle has a million fun costumes that I'm sure the boy would like,"

She pauses. Caroline mentioned something about a large party the day before, but no details. Orion, a perfect actor when he wants to be pipes cheerily. "Sounds like fun! Can we go? please?" his child like smile with his amber eyes is a bit eerie, but Lori relents. 

"Fine, yes, time and place." 

"Details are still in the works, I'll let you know when I hear more," 

"Arghhh!" Lori throws her arms up in the air and deliberately ignores when Corbin chimes,

"How about coffee tomorrow, neighbour?" 

***********************

"I approve" Orion says suddenly later at suppertime. Lori glares at him and Orion smirks. 

**********************

Lori staggers to open the door the following morning, greeted by Corbin's damn smiling face and a box of donuts. "Hope you're hungry" 

Lori grunts and opens the door, allowing Corbin inside, and practically growling when Orion bounds happily to the table and greets him cheerily. 

Yep, that's it, Lori has now officially been forced to interact with society on a non professional basis. She snags a crueller and bites into it. It might not be so bad.

Maybe.


	21. Haunted Theatre?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A flashback and investigation.

Flash back to the Year before Abbie died

Crane tugged at his sleeves and surveyed the crowd of individuals all finely dressed, not over done, but formal enough, dress shirts and nice dresses. Abbie beside him had worn her hair down. A tea length dress, in emerald green and flared bottom, a light shawl graced her shoulders. He'd never been to a "musical" before. But Abbie assured him it was one of those things one had to experience. The poster in the lobby shows a man wearing a ghoulish mask obscuring his face. The crowd buzzes with excitement as he and Abbie shuffle into the theatre towards the seats. The orchestra warms up. 

Crane all but leapt into Abbie's lap when the chandelier crashed.

****************************************

Abbie heaves deep breaths as she and Corbin enter the theatre. It was 7:00 now, and the theatre was completely deserted. Odd, a crime scene should be swarming with personnel, investigators, reporters--and come to think of it---why had Corbin waited until the evening to tell her about the murder? Shouldn't he have called her first thing that morning? Abbie starts to feel uneasy. They peer around the darkened lobby, Corbin following closely behind. 

"I'm going to look for a light"

"I've got my flashlight,"

Corbin shakes his head "I need more than one beam not to fall on my face in here. Stay put," he wanders away down a hall to look for the utility closet, presumably for a switch. But then he is gone too long. 

"Corbin?" Abbie hollers. "Corbin?" he voice pitching up higher than before. "CORBIN!" she screams finally acknowledging that she is alone. She hears movement. A flitting darkness. A shadow, she whirls, wielding her flashlight. "Who's there?" more movement. A swishing sound, like cloth. "Who's Hey!" she screams just as the flashlight is plucked from her hands. Abbie panics. She has been thoroughly plunged into darkness in the theatre and is she is alone. Corbin has vanished, and there is someone else in there with her. 

What is it?

A masked murderer?

A spirit? can it be some sort of evil had once again managed to permeate Sleepy Hollow? 

She stays silent and feels along the wall. There's a low humming in the air, raising the hair on her arms, thrilling through her. The sound of footsteps sounds near by, and Abbie runs, she runs blindly hoping she doesn't hit a wall, the footsteps pursue her, and then a door clicks shut. Her heart pounding, Abbie braces herself and turns towards where she heard the door. She checks for her gun before inching back from where she came when the humming sounds again.....and....a chiming sound.....a melody.....like.... like....like a broken music box. Her stomach drops, there's something very wrong, and very strange going on here. Petrified, she stays put. She doesn't know what she's dealing with here, and she is more or less at a great disadvantage. She blinks her eyes shut, takes a deep shuddering breath, trying to focus. Calm down Mills. She dials Crane, but gets his machine, and then the steps return. They sound like they're above her, behind the wall, everywhere. And then.

A glint.

Abbie does not imagine it, she sees a mirror appear at the opposite end from where she came. She stares at it, willing whatever evil to come through it and let them battle it out once and for all. What if it has Corbin? What does it want? She moves towards it, curious, cautious, a door slams and the humming she heard earlier becomes a high pitched squeal, Abbie knows she's being followed and she runs towards the mirror, crashes into it, and descends. 

A damning but familiar tune surges loudly behind her as Abbie disappears. A steady heartbeat rhythm.


	22. Say You'll.......All I Ask......

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Abbie finds herself falling through a mirror portal after Corbin goes missing as they investigate the theatre where the murder occurred.
> 
> But nothing is as it seems

The music ringing through her ears set her hair on end and sent shivers down her spine, but her heart soared. There was something exhilarating about it echoing around her, as if herself were the music. She found herself humming along, before realizing how absurd it was that she was feeling nostalgic as she seemed to be falling endlessly, but then a landing came, fast, much too fast and Abbie hit the ground hard and rolled across the stage. Startled, she looked up and saw the body of the murder victim, dangling above her. Shock rendered her speechless. That was Irving, with his feet swinging off the floor, and, as Abbie staggered to her feet, light blossomed around her illuminating the stage, the faces of dances, frozen in mid step, faces petrified in fear, and the music kept swelling, she heard clanking and creaking. She turned behind her and saw a massive chandelier, reassembling itself, and lifting, surging back up into the ceiling where it had been fixed before. And then-----

The dancers started moving.

The dancers were Sleepy Hollow citizens. Their costumes changed from ballet to formal grand ball room attire, masquerade masks, waltzing around on the stage. Irving's body, rope and all assembled back into the rafters for a split second and then came hurtling back down in a tux, smiling at her. Abbie swore. "Frank? Frank? is that you?" 

He bowed with great flourish. "Scared ya did I Mills?"

"What the hell is this?" she demanded, but even as she began to rage, her uniform began to transform. Her sleeves fell off her shoulders, her pants bloomed into a floor sweeping skirt, with crinoline and tulle, emerald green, trimmed in white lace, her hair began to rearrange and coil itself elegantly in a half knot. Jewels glittered at her ears. 

"Sing once again, with me" A voice began to sing, Abbie jumped. 

"No,"

"Our strange duet" the pair swirling by her sang to each other, beaming at one another as they circled around. Wait, was that Hawley and Jenny? but they weren't due back in town for two weeks.

"Father once spoke of an angel" That was Gail's voice, twirling hand in hand with a beaming Orion. Their childish faces aglow with the lights beaming down, dressed in their adorable costumes. 

"Angel of Music, Guide and Guardian," Macey sailed across the stage with Joe Corbin gliding beside her. 

Abbie choked. "Is Macey, dancing?" 

Frank smiled. "Cynthia perfected a charm, she's gotten pretty good at this, eh? my girl"

"She did this? what's going on here? there wasn't ever really a murder, was there,"

"Not a one, just an elaborate ruse,"

Abbie gaped in awe of the glittering theatre slowly transforming itself into a grand ball room, marble flooring, a sweeping domed ceiling, and then, of all things, an orchestra appeared, they were switching seamlessly from one song to the next and Abbie's head was spinning. 

"Cynthia did this? the music in the halls, and the footsteps and, Corbin! What happened to Corbin! He vanished upstairs!"

Frank stroked his chin thoughtfully "I saw him floating around here with a woman on his arm."

"Woman?"

"Don't trouble yourself, tonight is your night,"

"Speaking of which, what IS this? Who's idea was this? Phantom of the Opera? How on EARTH did---the only person who knew I liked this was---"

and just then, as if on cue, the music for All I Ask of You began to play. The chorus was being sung by the citizens sweeping the room. 

No more talk of darkness  
Forget these wide-eyed fears  
I'm here, nothing can harm you  
My words will warm and calm you

That WAS Hawley and Jenny winking at her as they circled the room once more. And Calvin and Caroline were looking cozy and full of possibility, as they waltzed themselves closer to one another.

Let me be your freedom  
Let daylight dry your tears  
I'm here, with you, beside you  
To guard you and to guide you

The room was full to the brim, orchestra, dancers, Cynthia had magicked food somehow but suddenly the crowd cleared a straight path. 

And there was Crane.

And he was singing

say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime  
Let me lead you from your solitude  
Say you need me with you here, beside you  
Anywhere you go, let me go too

He glided to a stop in front of Abbie, and sank down on one knee, with simple elegance, extracted the box and popped the lid. "Marry me Abbie, That's all I ask of You," 

Irving moved beside Cynthia, who dressed in a floor length purple gown was waving her arms majestically, conducting the orchestra and the dancers both. Lord knows, none of the people of Sleepy Hollow were natural dancers. 

Abbie stared down at him, awestruck. "Oh my God, Ichabod," her knees weakened and she sank to the floor beside him, clasped his hands in hers. "You planned this?"

He nodded, his face smug.

"You faked the murder? got the costumes? the news paper," 

"With the help of all those who love you, Hawley and Jenny came back early with Gail, Corbin agreed to get you here, The Irvings worked their very literal and impressive magic, Caroline got the costumes, Calvin ran the story---" Abbie cut him off with a kiss. The music was still surging around them. Her fingers grasped at his hair, pulling him closer, her heart pounded in her chest. She'd never felt so loved, so cherished. So extravagant. Heavens. She broke off from him but barely moved away, when she spoke, their lips were close enough to touch.

"You remembered, our first musical, that I loved this song,"

"Abbie I remember everything that pertains to you, my love."

She threw her arms around him, kissing him deeply. He made a muffled sound and she withdrew. "You haven't answered the question, treasure,"

"Yes, Ichabod, of course it's Yes," she emphasized. Crane rose to his feet, lifting Abbie with him and with surprisingly trembling fingers slid the ring on her finger. 

The room erupted in applause and cheering. 

"I Love you, Abbie,"

"I Love you, Ichabod,"

************************

Corbin congratulated them later with a familiar face on his arm. Abbie's jaw dropped. Jenny ran across the hall to join them. The two sisters spoke in unison.

"Mama?"

Lori smiled weakly. "I'm so sorry, congratulations Abbie, Jenny, I'm so proud of you,"

"This is your mother?"

"How could you not see the resemblance?" Jenny snapped good natured as always. Corbin huffed, clearly flummoxed. 

"It doesn't matter, our family has never been more whole, don't you think, Crane?"

Ichabod affectionately nuzzled Abbie's hair, one arm snaking around her waist. "It could still be fuller, if you'd give me the chance,"

"Whoa! Get married first then the babies!" Jenny laughed, teasing the newly engaged couple.

But Abbie and Ichabod were too busy kissing each other senseless for all to see.

 

I DO NOT own the lyrics nor music to Phantom of the Opera, all credit goes to Andrew Lloyd Weber.


End file.
